


I'll Be Home for Christmas

by macpetreshock



Series: The Reason for it All: Tom Hiddleston One Shots [1]
Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom, Tom Hiddleston Fandom, Tom Hiddleston RPF, tom hiddleston - RPF
Genre: Actor Tom Hiddleston, Christmas Fluff, Dad Tom Hiddleston, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fatherhood, Feels, Fluff, Love, Married Couple, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Parent-Child Relationship, Pregnancy, RPF, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-14 05:42:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5731543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macpetreshock/pseuds/macpetreshock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom has just returned home to London for the holiday break from filming Skull Island in Hawaii. He has good reasons home is the only place he wants to be for Christmas.</p><p>(This holiday one shot spawned plot bunnies which appear to be turning into a series. Blame it all on Tom being in the holiday spirit... This is the 1st and is best to be read first.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Be Home for Christmas

As much as Tom loved traveling the world and filming in various locales, nothing compared to the relief of landing back home in London. To him, it was the greatest city in the world, and though its historical beauty surpassed any other, in his opinion, family made it the only city where he wanted to spend the holidays.

Tom’s minimal luggage reminded him how brief the break in filming Skull Island really was for everyone to have a bit of family time at the holidays, and hearing himself speak his home address aloud to the cabbie served to further the aching need to be home for Christmas.

Thankfully, traffic remained light, at least by London standards, and soon they’d arrived out front of the spacious two-story, white Victorian. A smile lit his face at the sight of it, remembering a time that seemed like yesterday when work wasn’t steady enough to dare splurge on what were merely dreams then.

Pulling his stuff out of the boot, the simple gold band on his finger caught the light, and Tom sighed heavily. “God, it’s good to be home.” Noticing the cabbie also wore a wedding ring, he gave an extra generous tip in hopes the man could afford a nice Christmas with his loved ones as well.

Before reaching the front door, it opened, revealing the chocolate-eyed brunette he’d fallen for so madly shortly after RADA and finally married nearly five years ago when he felt more secure that he could provide for them together as a family.

“That’s my t-shirt, Claire,” Tom remarked, unceremoniously dropping his bags to the floor, though taking care with his guitar case. “How many have I lost this time?”

“When you’re not here, I have to do the best I can to get by. Besides…” She rubbed a hand over her expanding belly, giving him explanation enough.

Knelt to kiss their baby he couldn’t yet see, Tom splayed his hands over Claire’s ever-protruding belly, no longer able to cover it entirely, even with his large hands. “Anything you need, darling, but you do know they sell maternity clothing, and we can afford them, don’t you?” he teased, but his face quickly turned serious, fingers rubbing circles along her sides where he knew her aches and pains were often the worst. “I’ve been quite clear with Jordan from Day 1, I will be back in London by first of May.”

She ran her fingers through his messy hair, noting he’d clearly slept on his flight and not looked in a mirror since. “I’m not even due till the thirtieth, Mr. Paranoid. You can be a bit more lenient than that.”

“Lenient is that I didn’t drop the entire project when we found out we were definitely expecting.” His tone was a low rumble, frustrated and angry with himself.

Standing to his full height without warning, he’d always startled her when he was suddenly six inches taller than her, not that her being barefoot and him in his cowboy boots helped any, adding another inch or more advantage on his part. But on her part, startled never became scared. He was her gentle giant, warm, loving, and protective.

“I didn’t want to miss a single moment, love, and hate that I have.” Tom brushed his fingers across her cheek and kissed her deeply, as if making up for every day of the last two months he’d been away, lingering and resting his forehead to hers. “I won’t miss the last month.” His jaw clenched, and he took a deep breath before finishing. “You remember what happened last time… It won’t happen again.”

A shriek of delight interrupted whatever may have been left of their moment, and Tom’s attention fully turned to the giggling bundle of messy blonde curls, wide blue eyes, and a pink Disney princess nightgown, standing at the top of the staircase.

If Tom were to describe how his family defined him as a man, he would have to say Claire was his heart and soul, and their ‘honeymoon baby,’ 4-year-old Abigail was his joy and zest for life.

“Daddy!”

Dad mode kicked in full force, and he was more than halfway up the stairs, hands there right in time to catch her as she launched herself off the top step toward him, completely trusting that he’d never let her fall. And despite routine arguments with Claire on the matter, Tom remained torn between teaching Abbie the dangers of assuming he could always get to her yet wanting her to keep believing in him so fully.

His little girl giggled and shrieked as he hugged, tickled, and kissed her, and tried not to cry at how much he’d missed her, missed them both… soon to be all three of them, while away filming. “Ah, my little princess! The king of the castle has been in far distant lands too long and must prove his love for you!” And he proved it with her in hysterical fits of giggles and flailing blonde curls until she was breathless, and he nearly was as well.

Seated together on the stairs, Abbie climbed to wrap her arms around his neck, squeezing so tight he could barely breathe, and whispered in his ear. “You weren’t here to decorate the tree.” Tom’s heart nearly broke at the disappointment in her little voice. “But Mummy saved your special ornaments and the stockings. She says only Daddy can put them up, so we had to wait.”

Tom grinned and kissed her cheek. “Well that was very sweet of Mummy.” Through the years, they’d each developed a collection of ornaments with special meanings to each of them, and had started Abigail off from her very first Christmas to build her own collection. His held a few passed down from family, a couple interesting ones from places he’d traveled, but mostly ornaments from Claire with memories tied to them only they understood. And in the past four years, his collection had grown to include a fair number of fatherhood-related ornaments as well. He took great pride in hanging each and every one on the tree, knowing exactly where they were to see them at a glance. A Christmas map of a life well-lived.

And the stockings, well, they weren’t anything unusually special in and of themselves, but Claire loved the way Tom would tell Abbie the tale of Santa coming to visit on Christmas Eve and filling them. He’d make it a grand production for his enraptured audience of one, exaggerated voices for Santa, the elves, and all of his talking reindeer, because talking reindeer made for a much better story.

Leaning back in his lap, Abigail looked him in the eyes. “Mummy said after you did that, we could make the Christmas cookies.” Her blue eyes lit up with Tom’s same mischievous sweet tooth. Oh, she was ever her father’s daughter.

“Then we should go decorate that tree and get those stockings hung, shouldn’t we?” he asked, standing with his daughter in his arms, not missing the warmth in Claire’s smile to see him back home, back with them, where he belonged.

Abbie’s arms remained wrapped around his neck, her head snuggled in close. “Daddy?”

“Yes, my princess?”

“You were gone so long, I thought you might not be here for Christmas.”

Tom swallowed the lump in his throat, tears stinging his eyes at the thought his daughter believed he might fail her. “I made a promise to you. I promised I’ll be home for Christmas, and here I am. There’s nowhere else I’d ever be.”


End file.
